


The Jitters

by InsominiacArrest



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, One Shot, SO MUCH FLUFF, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5257205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alphys and Undyne are getting married, Frisk tries to help</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jitters

Alphys

“Fr-Frisk,” you call out, hands shaking as you clutch at the silver curtain of the hotel suite, you turn back to the others “I d-don’t like this, where are they? They have the rings.”  
“Don’t wo-”  
“What if nobody shows up Mettaton? Or at least no one…for me. And I walk out there I turn into a giant slug.” You shudder, you hate slugs, what if no one told you for your whole life you were actually a large slug? Your brain starts to do the math, 365 days, dozens of mirrors…

“I said,” Mettaton grabs your shoulders, “I said, no worries darling.” He pushes you down into a chair. “Sit down. Relax. Things are taken care of.”

“Yeah, but what if-”  
“Oh Frisk!” Mettaton distracts you, “there they are.”

Frisk glides over to you and crawls on your lap like it’s a playground. “Oh, hey,”  
They grab something and tie it around your neck, you touch it faintly.

“Frisk, that’s filthy.” Mettaton grimaces and reaches for the old ribbon around your neck.

“Wait, no, no.” You push Mettaton’s hand away and paw at the pink strip of cloth, eyes lowered to it. “I like it.”  
Frisk grins up at you, breathing hard after apparently sprinting over.

“Thank you.” You hold their bite sized hand, “it’s just like the ribbon Mew Mew wore in episode 7!! She had to pretend to be a cat, a mean more of a cat and all her friends were lost, but in the end, they realized it was still her, and-”

Mettaton clears his throat, “ahem.” You blush, “the rest of the makeup. Yes.”  
You get back up again, remembering the Big Day, what were the chances of you being a giant slug again?

—-

Undyne

“Monsters! Humans! Passion, I mean, our passion! Is.. No, I, Undyne, will take Alphys, support her, protect her, carry her, throw her- throw her?” You look at your note cards with an eyebrow arched, “why would I…” You wipe the sweat from your forehead, looking around to see if Sans was snickering somewhere.

“You want to emphasize how strong you were, remember?” You are reminded.  
“Right.” You groan, “maybe..” You tap your chin and then grin, “I’ll just flex!” You go to rip up the notecards, “and say babe I l-love, and uh.” You lose your steam and slouch against the couch. “Ugh.”

Papyrus and his brother watch you carefully, Papyrus pauses and then sticks a finger up, “Never fear Undyne!” he declares, “if you forget all of your vows and everyone is staring as you freeze up mid-ceremony all your friends have come to, I will simply begin my brilliant~ best man speech and distract them.”

You slump down on the chair and look back down at the notecards, “thanks.” Why was this so hard?

“Aw, don’t look so sea-sick.” Sans closes one eye and grins, “it’s out a tuna.”

You feel renewed energy, mostly to ‘throttle,’ Sans however was holding a small child in his arms. One that could block all of your attacks.

“Frisk even has something for you.”  
  
You frown slightly, Frisk climbs down and runs up to you, “hmm?” They drop two tiny silver spears in your hands. “What’s this?”  
You hold them up, they glimmer in the light , a clear silver in the shape of sharp points.

“You got this for me?” Frisk nods and gestures for you put them in your hair . “Uh, like this?” You insert them criss-crossed in your pony-tale. You nod at the reflection as they glint in the light like a beacons of BATTLE in your HAIR .

“Good pick punk.” You ruffle their hair, they laugh, Now!” You turn around, “who wants to hear my vows again?”  
You receive a collective groan, “Humans! Monsters! Passion. What is it? Well, just look,”

——-

Papyrus

You start to mingle with the crowd, informing the waiting listeners of the important duties of an ambassadors.

“…and then I said ‘spaghetti! And the secretary of monster relations declared me the sole receiver of the gift from all humans! Can you imagine. I, the great Papyrus, can of course. For you see- Oh, Frisk.” You pause regaling your gathered fans of the exploits of a hero of diplomacy when Frisk runs up to you.

They reach for your scarf, politely motioning for you to tie it more tightly around your neck?  
“What’s that Frisk?” They point adamantly, “my scarf?”  
They nod and then unwrap and wrap something in midair.

“Choke…Me?”  
They slap their hand to their forehead dramatically.

“Frisk, I’m afraid- wah.” They are grabbing your wrist with their abnormal child strength and drag you back out of the onlookers into the hallways.

“Really now, Frisk, Toriel said no rough housing today.” It wasn’t a whine if you’re wearing a suit.

They huff and gesture at your scarf again, “what? This thing?”  
They make it back to what looked like the bride’s dressing room. One of them at least.

You hear hyperventilating from inside.

Frisk takes you both through the door, inside Alphys was perched on top of a vanity, hissing and breathing hard, Toriel was patting her arm comfortingly.

“Dear. We all just just so excited to see you two wed. No one will be upset if anything goes wrong.”

Alphys visibly vibrates, “Undyne is so cool! And strong!” Alphys rocks on her feet, “ _and she’ll be stuck with me!_ ”

“Shush,” Mettaton looks like he almost slapped her.

“Alphys!” You intrude, “that is not how our confidence training works.” She jumps and shrinks when you address her.

She sniffs noisily, “but I already…”

Frisk you leads you over, “repeat our phrase! I, the great Alphys, will dazzle and amaze.”

“I,” she sniffs and tries to repeat after you, but her voice wobbles, “but I…” she wails, “I already tore the dress.”

She turns around to reveal a thin gash in the back of the gown. Tears flow freely from her eyes again, Toriel tries to comfort her without getting her priest outfit wet. It was a losing battle.

Frisk pulls on your scarf again.  
“Frisk, this is no time for proper attire consul, we have to complete Alphys’s training.”

Frisk rolls their eyes, climbs you and unwinds the scarf, whispering “borrow.”

You protest, but they are quick, always so quick.

Frisk ties the scarf around Alphys like a sash, she stops crying, and they collectively exhale. The gash was covered.

“What a great idea! That I could contribute to. Well done.”

——

Sans

“And babe.” Undyne pauses for effect, the whole crowd leans in, breathing as one, “I love you. I always will.” Alphys stands tall, biting her lip and blushing gently like a model of reverence and wonder.

“Do you, Undyne of waterfall…” Toriel begins the human words of ceremony. You lean back in your chair, an easy tune playing in the back of your skull.

Frisk starts to tug on the sleeve of your suit jacket, vigorously nodding their head up and down, now.”

“Ya sure kid?”  
They increase their head jerks, “easy there.” You steady their chin. “Alright.”

“Blue.” They repeat in a soft yet determined tone.

“Got it.”

“I do.” Undyne says from the stage, sure and steady, Asgore dabs at his eyes from the chairs and blows his nose, you’re not sure if him or Mettaton are leaking more fluids.

Frisk pulls on your sleeve more forcefully, “Got it.” You repeat.

“And do you, Alphys, take Undyne of Waterfall, to be your lawfully wedded wife under both human and monster law?”  
“I do.” She says without a hitch.

Mettaton swoons, your brother is also blubbering, you reach your hand out, surging an inch of energy out at their souls.

As they lean into kiss, their ‘hearts’ glow a dark deep blue.  
“Oh!” Alphys says in delight.

“Something blue…” you mutter to yourself as Frisk claps their hands happily and gives the girls a big thumbs up.

They laugh as they glow blue and then lean in for a fully lighted kiss. Soft and excited the crowd cheers.

They part and tap foreheads, laughing while the gathered group celebrates and Frisk jumps up and down.

“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” They murmur to themself before glancing back up at you and beaming, “they’re married now.” 


End file.
